English Breakfast, American Heart
by findingyouagain
Summary: She would have to guess a bit on the coordinates. Travelling via vortex manipulator wasn't something she had done in a long time. She knows he's not coming back for her tonight. She's not sure he ever will. But what she does know is there'll be an English breakfast waiting for her tomorrow in London, and a Time Lord running through its streets just waiting to be found. [Doctor/OC]


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Doctor Who.

**Author's Note:** This is a remodeling of my old story, Finding You Again. Leave a review and tell me what you think.

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**Prologue**

"_You're not about to do something stupid, are you?"_

"_Of course not."_

She always was. Perhaps he had rubbed off on her—his careless, clumsy behavior. He gallivanted through time and space like a child running in its front yard with clothes that didn't match and shoelaces that weren't tied. She never understood where it came from, his need for adventure. But she knew it made his lips twitch into a grin and his eyes grow wide in wonder as he stared at the universe and its beauty, so she didn't question it. She just watched him gaze at the stars that glistened in the midnight sky—the ones that would fade away in a blink and the ones that would pop into existence—with a smile of her own. An endless wonder watching endless wonders.

It had always been like that, even when he was a child. He grabbed her hand and dragged her on adventures of their own. Many were just visits, for the ship he used was not yet his own. He would take her to his home planet, show her the different stars in his night sky than hers. He befriended her ever since the first time he showed up in her bedroom, falling out of the box with a scarf too big for his little boy body. He claimed it an accident, saying they were learning how to pilot them in his class. She had never heard of learning how to drive a box in school before, but what was she to know? Her godfather home-schooled her after he was done teaching everyone else's families. Had he been holding out on her?

She leaned against the white-washed wooden door, falling to the floor with a sigh. She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her tangled brown locks. She needed to leave. She needed to pack up her suitcase, wear her best pair of running shoes, and leave this house. She couldn't stand the silence anymore nor the glances she cast out the window whenever a frog would croak. The stench of her father's liquor made her want to vomit and the pictures in her godfather's school books made her want to cry. She needed to leave.

But where would she go?

She could begin with London in the 21st Century. He seemed to constantly end up there. It was a good start; although, she could narrow it down a bit. Maybe Ealing. Sarah lived there. Perhaps she knew where he was, or at least have some clues. She would make her a good cup of tea and grace her with a smile of reassurance and let her stay in the spare bedroom until she was ready to leave.

Or maybe she would start with Cardiff. If Maria was right—and she normally was, Jack would be there. Jack would know what to do. He would help her look and take care of her until she found him. He wouldn't let her down. He never had before.

Or, perhaps, she could start with the other news Maria told her. Stick with 21st Century London. Narrow it to Peckham. Then further down to the Powell Estates, Bucknall House, Number 48. The Tyler's residence. Time Agent equipment—very specific.

Another sigh. She couldn't do that, could she? Barge in on a poor mother and daughter and demand to know where he was? No, she couldn't.

She stood up, dusting off the dirt on her pants, and walked to the window. She hopped on the desk. A squeak followed as the wooden piece of furniture wobbled on its shaky legs. Her pale hands reached for the blinds. Pulling the cord, she managed to clear the contraption from her view of the abandoned street. Lore Cove was not typically known to be so quiet this time of night, but perhaps the universe had whispered to the local gangs that tonight was a night for silence. Her brown eyes flickered to the broken street lamp, its orange glow still managing to illuminate the oak tree and children's rusted park across the way, before gazing at the sky.

At first glance, it appeared pitch black. No star to behold. No moon to howl at. No wonders of the universe to draw him back to her. She could stare at it for hours and hope for a change in fate, but just as when she had stared at the lifeless eyes of her mother years before, nothing would have changed. The person she longed to hold her tight and whisper words of comfort would not be there when she finally stopped staring.

But this time, right before she glanced away, a star appeared, streaking through the sky like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes grew wide, and her body had already leaped off the desk and ran to her bedroom before her mind had agreed with the decision. She tossed the dusty blue luggage bag on top of the bed and began to throw article after article of clothing in it: sweaters warm enough for winter, big t-shirts with pockets, flowy dresses made for summer days by the lake, scuffed up shoes from running in alleys, and worn skinny jeans bought from a store in England. Other essentials came next—things like shampoo and toothpaste, safety money, and her gun.

She slipped on her tennis shoes, tying the laces as fast and tight as she could. This was her last chance, and she wasn't going to let it slip by. He liked it when they were brave, independent. He liked it when they took charge and showed him and the rest of the world who really was the boss of their life.

It wasn't fate nor love. It wasn't war nor addiction.

It wasn't time.

It was themselves.

Grabbing the wrist device, she strapped the Velcro together before knotting the leather strings that kept it in place. She would have to guess a bit on the coordinates. Travelling via vortex manipulator wasn't something she had done in a long time.

She knows he's not coming back for her tonight. She's not sure he ever will.

But what she does know is there'll be an English breakfast waiting for her tomorrow in London and a Time Lord running through its streets just waiting to be found.


End file.
